


you know that i'm falling

by kaorujin



Category: Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (2020)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/F, Found Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:02:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23614933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaorujin/pseuds/kaorujin
Summary: Most people would describe Helena Bertinelli as quiet. Precise. A cold-blooded killing machine.Even awkward if they had lived long enough to know her a bit better.But no one ever says loving. Or caring.And Dinah would have to disagree.//Or Dinah finds out Helena's love languages are gift giving and acts of service
Relationships: Helena Bertinelli/Dinah Lance
Comments: 45
Kudos: 318





	you know that i'm falling

Most people would describe Helena Bertinelli as quiet. Precise. A cold-blooded killing machine.

Even awkward if they had lived long enough to know her a bit better.

But no one ever says loving. Or caring.

And Dinah would have to disagree.

//

It all starts when Helena gets access to her family’s accounts and becomes a billionaire overnight. 

Cassandra Cain had knocked on Dinah’s door looking for Helena. Luckily for her (or more likely Harley had been keeping tabs on them), Helena and Renee were both there hanging out. They had found some commeradie after Harley left them in the dust at the taqueria -- Dinah without a job, Helena without a mission, and Renee without a case.

“Where’s the janky ass clown and my car?” Dinah demands.

Renee scoffs, “Probably hiding.”

Cass just shrugs and holds out a piece of paper to Helena. She points to Helena and makes a sign with her hand going from her right shoulder to the left then to her left hip before raiding Dinah’s fridge.

“Princess,” Renee translates before looking over Helena’s shoulder, who's seated at the dining table. “Holy shit, you’re rich now, Crossbow.”

"I can get a new bike," Helena says making Dinah and Renee chuckle.

Dinah is making Cass a sandwich when Helena announces the first thing she plans to do with her newfound wealth.

Tomorrow, she'll set up a college fund to be claimed over four years after Cass turns 18 and then a trust fund for after she turns 25. 

“It’s important to get an education and learn a little hard work,” Helena tells Cass, casting a considerably mother-like gaze at her -- but no one would dare to mention it.

A loud bang and angry shouting makes them all look upwards. Dinah notices Cass shrink in her seat and rubs comforting circles into her back. “Don’t worry, kid. This one,” she says pointing to Helena, “told them to never bother you again when they came knocking on my door.”

“I maybe had on my GCPD jacket too,” Renee says, kicking up her feet and opening a beer, and winks at Cass.

“Don’t you have to return that soon?” Dinah asked.

Renee merely shrugs and takes another sip of her beer, drawing out a smile from Cass.

//

Dinah finds out Helena even let’s Harley keep the diamond, but only if she agrees to return Dinah’s car -- intact. “I don’t know why you care about this car so much,” Helena complains when she steps out onto the curb after she pulls up in the car outside Dinah’s apartment. “It felt like it was gonna fall apart whenever I stopped at a red light.” 

Dinah ignores her -- too busy squealing in excitement and pushing Helena out of the way to climb into the driver’s seat. True to her word, Harley had returned the car mostly as it was when she stole it. It’s a little messy inside and dirty outside, but there are no dents or scratches surprisingly.

Once Dinah was satisfied with the condition of her car, she made her way over to Helena who had been observing her from the curb. She pulls Helena into a tight hug and finds it adorable when Helena lets out a surprised grunt. She keeps her arms around her willowy frame until she feels Helena pat her back with one hand in return. 

“C’mon, Killer,” Dinah says after, choosing not to mention the light blush across Helena’s cheeks, “Let’s get tacos. I wanna drive my baby. It’s been too long.”

“I still don’t understand why you love this car so much,” Helena tells her after they’re full of tacos and agua frescas. Dinah gives the ignition another try and slaps her steering wheel when it fizzles out. “It won’t even start right away.” 

Dinah tries to rein in her frustrations with both the car and Helena. “My mom got me this car when I got my license. It’s old, but it’s all we could afford at the time,” she explains slowly after seeing the genuine confusion on Helena’s face. “I never made enough to replace it, but I don’t think I want to. It’s mine, you know?” 

She sees the confusion fade from Helena’s brow only to be replaced by contemplation. Deciding to leave it for now, Dinah gives the car another try and cheers when the engine sputters to life. 

“Now that’s the sound I love to hear!” 

Helena lets out one of her rare laughs and Dinah quietly adds that to her list of victories for the day.

When Helena asks to borrow her car for the morning three days later, she finds herself giving away her keys easily. 

As promised, Helena returns the car precisely at 3pm. She declines Dinah’s invitation to stay -- saying she needs to run a few more errands.

When Dinah goes out for the night, she notices the engine starts easily right off the bat. Her radio’s been swapped out with a model with bluetooth capabilities. She even has A/C now. 

She pops the hood and realizes many of the components have been replaced. Even her tires are switched out for nicer ones.

She shakes her head to herself and smiles widely. All of this probably costs more than just getting a new car.

Helena Bertinelli, that soft motherfucker.

Dinah confronts her the next day, because despite the nice gesture, she can take care of herself and this was too much to accept, even if Helena was loaded now. She didn’t need handouts.

Helena just shrugs, obviously confused by Dinah’s apprehensiveness. “Can’t have it breaking down when we need you for a mission. Plus, we’re friends now right? You can just like repay me by buying dinner or whatever.”

Dinah can only scoff because only this rich ass ex-mafia princess would equate probably a ten-thousand dollar tune up to a fifteen dollar meal. But her heart softens as the earnest, yet tentative look in Helena’s eyes. 

“Thank you,” Dinah says softly, the fight leaving her body quickly. She pulls Helena into a hug, and this time even though she’s still stiff, she’s quicker to give Dinah’s back a pat.

Helena Bertinelli, that soft motherfucker, indeed.

//

The errands Helena claimed were apparently getting an apartment, purchasing and equipping an abandoned warehouse for their newly formed crime fighting gang, and a new motorcycle. 

At least that’s what she tells Dinah and Renee, but they come storming into the warehouse when they get checks for a million dollars each. 

(Dinah and Renee find out many months later Helena also enrolled in therapy sessions. Good for her. Maybe Dinah should look into those too. They all should; let’s be real.)

Helena glances at them only once before she resumes stringing up a punching bag.

“As of two weeks ago, you’re both currently unemployed,” she reminds them. “So, you should be reimbursed for your nightly duties, right? That’s how Americans do it?”

She gives the punching bag a few punches to test the integrity. Satisfied, she moves on to other tasks.

“Plus, you both live in dangerous parts of the city,” she shrugs after she moves some practice dummies into position.

They both decline the money, stating they’ll find new jobs soon. Surprising the both of them, Helena puts up a fight, and they only get her to let it go on the condition they'll keep ten-thousand dollars each.

"Get a new apartment please. Then invest or save the rest. I don't care,” she says in an exasperated tone as she tacks targets for her crossbow training onto the practice dummies.

Dinah’s always hated any handouts. She can take care of herself just fine. But those words have all of her protests dying on the tip of her tongue. Dinah’s starting to learn it’s Helena for “I’m worried about you.”

She keeps just enough for the down payment to her new apartment, some new furniture, and a few months’ rent. She wires the rest of the money to Harley for Cass to use.

//

When Cass visits them the next time, now at Dinah’s new apartment in a much safer part of town, she manages to bring along Harley. 

Dinah only gives her a bit of a hard time for the car stealing.

"I just needed a ride before I could afford my own, Sugar! I was always gonna give it back. I swear!"

"Uh huh," Dinah dismisses as she pushes Harley's feet off her coffee table. She plops herself next to her -- squeezing between Harley and Helena. Cass attempts to turn on Dinah's new flat screen, when Renee snags the remote from her and falls into the armchair. "Nope, kid. Homework first."

Cass pouts and then signs.

"What!" Helena yells rising from her seat and reaches over Dinah to pull Harley to her feet. "You _burned_ her textbooks?"

Helena drags Harley to the middle of the room by her overalls and lifts her up a few inches off the ground. “Cass,” Helena growls out, “Please leave the room for a bit.”

If Dinah spends a little too long looking at how Helena's arms ripple in the motion, no one mentions it. Renee merely surfs the channels until she lands on an old cop show while Cass goes to get a soda from the fridge.

“Look her dumb biology book was so wrong,” Harley chokes out, looking a little too calm for someone who’s hanging three inches off the ground by her overalls. “Trust me; I'm a doctor. Or well was. Don't even get me started on her reading list. It was so bor-" 

"You had a Ph.D. in _psychology_ ," Helena roars and shakes Harley a little. 

"Woah there, Killa," Harley squeaks, seeing that Helena was actually not going to put her down any time soon. She looks around for help and finds none. "I don’t see what’s the big deal. You’re rich. You can just buy her new ones."

“Not anymore," Helena growls out to the confusion of the whole group. “So, you,” she emphasizes at Harley, “Better get her new ones.”

With that Helena drops Harley who does manage to land on her feet. 

"Alright, kid, enough visiting. I'm gonna scram before Killa here really does kill me," Harley says, grabbing Cass who waves at them all goodbye.

Renee does some snooping with her ties in the city government and tells Dinah that someone made enormous anonymous donations to Gotham City Unified School District and Gotham City Parks and Recreations. 

So, in one month, Helena Bertinelli had gone from living motel to motel, to being a billionaire, then back to being a regular citizen. Albeit one that moonlights in the newly dubbed Birds of Prey crime fighting team.

//

Besides the grand gestures, Dinah notices Helena likes to give little gifts.

New brass knuckles for Renee after she mentioned hers didn't fit as well as she liked.

Her place always has snacks and sodas for Cass, despite her immense disgust with American junk food.

And even matching clothes for Bruce and Harley that Harley constantly posts on Instagram. 

Even with these gifts for the others, sometimes Dinah feels like she gets special treatment. 

But maybe she's just reading too much into it. 

//

It starts with nicotine patches on her desk whenever she's running low. A cup of coffee on her desk every other morning.

Then it's tubberware of homemade Italian food after Helena found out Dinah's diet consisted mostly of take out and frozen tv dinners. Little jewelry items from vendors when Dinah takes her to the farmer’s market after hearing how she almost hurts a guy over bumping her grocery cart. She gets Dinah fingerless gloves when Dinah asks her to teach her how to ride a motorcycle. "You need a good grip," she stated simply. 

(And maybe Helena's right, Dinah thinks to herself, when Helena reaches around her, practically molded around her back, to position her hands right on the handles. She really did need a grip.) 

Dinah has to draw the line when she sees a leather jacket on her chair. A real, authentic leather jacket.

"Helena!" she calls out, and Helena appears from behind a target she was practicing shooting at. 

"What's up?" 

Dinah's really glad Renee's out doing private investigator stuff, because she really didn't need Renee to tease her for this conversation that's about to happen.

"What's this?" Dinah asks as she lifts the jacket so Helena can see.

"It's a jacket," Helena says with confusion written all over her face. She puts away her crossbow bolts and walks over to Dinah. "Does it not fit right or something?" 

"No, that's not it," Dinah replies, pinching the bridge of her nose. She makes a sound of frustration. "Okay, I'm just gonna say it. You need to stop buying such expensive gifts."

Helena opens her mouth -- most likely to claim it wasn't that expensive -- but Dinah cuts her off. "Don't you dare. I know how much this costs. I've been looking at leather jackets all week." 

Helena closes her mouth like that's exactly what she was gonna say.

Dinah looks at her expectedly and Helena just huffs and mumbles, "You just kept looking at it and then exiting the browser for five days straight. So what if I wanted to do something nice for you?" 

Okay, so maybe Dinah didn't expect that. 

"I swear, Huntress, what are we doing to do with you," Dinah mutters to herself mostly. "Okay fine, but once I book this gig, I'm treating you to something."

Helena puts her pinky out like Cass taught her. "It's a deal." 

Dinah can't help her wide smile when she links her pinky with Helena and repeats the deal. Maybe there’s only a little bit of ulterior motive involved when she asks Helena to help her put on the jacket. It fits perfectly and really compliments the fishnets she's taken to wearing again lately.

And if she notices Helena staring, she doesn't mention it.

She gives herself one more look in the mirror. The fingerless gloves would really compliment the look. She catches Helena’s eyes in the mirror. "Wanna spare?" she asks, breaking Helena from her stupor.

That gets Helena smiling.

//

“Ha ha!” Dinah cheers loudly in triumph when the email comes through. Renee looks over from where she’s investigating new leads, and Helena stops polishing her bike. 

“What’s up, Canary?” Renee asks as she gets up to fill up her mug with more coffee.

“I booked my gig! And it’s not some sleazy bar or a sketchy club run by a supervillain this time.” At least, she hopes not.

Renee returns with a warm filled cup and pats Dinah on the shoulder. “Good job, kid.”  
It’s all she says before getting back to work.

Helena beams at her. One of her rare smiles. “When is it? Can I -- can we come watch?” she asks shyly.

Dinah smiles back at her so wide that she knows her right dimple is showing. “Sure. Yeah you can come. I’ll text the group chat the date and location.”

//

Dinah spends the next week picking out a set piece and practicing every afternoon before their nights full of fighting crime. It’s a new lounge in town, looking for some regular acts to entertain the patrons. Her gig is a bit of an audition of sorts. 

Dinah’s always been in love with music. One of the many things she’s inherited from her mother it seems. But ever since working for Sionis, her relationship with it has been complicated. Sionis was very particular of what he wanted to hear, since no one else in the Black Mask club ever seemed to listen to her anyways. But the more she sang for him -- for money -- the more she sang out of anger rather than love. 

It takes her three days to even think of what she wanted to sing. The lounge just told her something nice and appealing to folks in their mid 20s to 30s. It takes her another three to sing from a place that doesn’t make her want to kick someone’s ribs in. 

So when Saturday night rolls around, Dinah finds herself nervous to get on stage for the first time in a long time. 

As promised, Helena, Renee, and even Harley show up. They’re seated at a table right next to the stage, and Dinah sits with them until she has to go backstage to get ready. “You’re going to be great, Sweetie,” Harley yells at her. 

“You got this, Canary,” Renee adds in, lifting her beer in support.

Helena gives her a smile.

The lounge is a lot nicer than Sionis’. It’s not cold nor hidden in the basement of a warehouse. Instead, it’s almost cozy and there’s actually a decent amount of patrons coming to check out a potential new hang out spot. They even have an actual dressing room for their acts unlike the supply closet Sionis tried to play off as one.

Dinah enters the room ready to change and put on her make up for the act. Nothing like what Sionis used to request of her, but she’s always been a fan of flashy. However, to her surprise, she finds a bouquet of red roses waiting for her on her dresser. 

She hesitates a little. Gotham’s full of creeps, and who knows if these flowers are a threat somehow. There’s rumors of some plant lady that can poison people with lipstick. Why not gaseous flowers or whatever. She looks around for a note and finds a small sticky note. She recognizes the familiar small, neat letters.

_You’re going to be amazing, Dinah. -H.B._

Dinah smiles widely and leans in to smell the flowers. She’s so happy, she doesn’t even notice that her nerves go away. 

“Hi everyone, you can call me Black Canary. I’ll be singing you a few songs tonight.”

She begins and finishes the set with ease. The whole place had been quietly listening to her intently and clapping loudly after each song -- Harley’s and Renee’s cheering easily distinguishable. It was nothing like being ignored at the Black Mask. She bows politely and walks off stage.

The owner of the lounge, Maeve Bo, catches her outside the dressing room. “Hey, great performance! The crowd really loved you tonight. Would you be interested in being a regular?”

Dinah considers it for a second. Maeve is a nice lady in her 30s and doesn’t give off supervillainous vibes. The lounge is nice and close enough to her new place. She agrees.

“Great! I’ll email you to set up a meeting. You’ll have your check later in the week for tonight,” Maeve confirms. “I have to go make more rounds but great performance again, Dinah.”

Dinah makes her way back to her friends and finds a rum and coke waiting for her. “You did great, Canary!” Harley praises, her eyes a little wild -- there’s a little bit of white powder still on her upper lip. The others voice their agreement, and Dinah ducks her head shyly as she takes her seat and places her flowers on the table. Renee holds up her glass in cheers, and Dinah picks her up to knock them together in acknowledgement. 

“Thanks, Harley,” she replies, taking a sip of her drink. “And thanks for the flowers,” she says to Helena, dimple prominent on her right cheek.

“You said you love them or something, right,” Helena mumbles, scratching her cheek and avoiding eye contact with all of them.

“Ain’t she a big ol’ romantic,” Harley teases, poking Helena’s redden cheek. “It’s the Italian in her blood.”

Helena glares at her but can’t fight the blush on her face. Dinah gives her mercy and doesn’t mention it. “C’mon, Helena, I said I’d buy you a drink once I got a gig right?”

“But I have a dri--”

She ignores the comment and takes Helena’s hand, leading them to the bar. Maybe she intertwines their fingers a little. 

Maybe.

If she senses Harley and Renee sharing a knowing look behind them, she doesn’t mention it.

//

“Do you play an instrument?” Helena asks her one day when they’re hanging out at Dinah’s apartment.

Which is something they do now. Hanging out just her and Helena. 

Alone. 

Together.

They’re nursing a couple bottles of beer while some movie plays on the T.V. Helena has a bag of ice on her thigh, surprising not from their Birds of Prey gig, but instead from one of her students at the self-defense studio she’s gotten a job at. Their empty take out containers lay haphazardly on the coffee table.

Dinah’s learned a lot about Helena since they formed their little girl gang and realized they actually really enjoy hanging out together. 

Like one, Helena always orders everything mild, but she likes extra salt on almost everything. 

Her favorite color is purple. 

She’s actually really funny in that dark humor kinda way.

Her favorite movie is the Lion King which was one of the last movies she saw in theaters. (Probably something about being a lost prince raised by strange men that makes Dinah’s heart ache if she thought too hard about it).

And she’s really bad at playing coy, because there’s an acoustic guitar in its case sitting on a stand in her living room right in Helena’s line of sight.

“Is that your way of asking for a song request?” Dinah teases, already getting up to grab the old Yamaha before Helena can protest. Helena sits up from where she was slouching to make room for Dinah and her guitar. 

Dinah sits crossed legged, grabs the remote to turn down the television, then she starts to tune the guitar. It’s been a while, but her muscle memory works its magic to tune the guitar to standard. She gives it a strum, and once she’s satisfied with the sound, she looks towards Helena expectantly.

Helena just looks at her wide-eyed, brain apparently still catching up with the change of events. “No, not particularly. Um.” She starts, then looks away and starts to pick at her nails. “Maybe play something you don’t typically sing? Like not at the clubs.”

Dinah takes a minute to think before she arrives at one of her mom’s favorites. She clamps the capo on and then her fingers start moving. She’s a bit rusty, but she’s played this song so often, it all comes back to her fast. 

She keeps her eyes focused on the frets as the notes play softly throughout the apartment. She doesn’t even notice Helena reach out to turn off the television as she starts softly singing the lyrics. When she reaches the chorus, she’s surprised to hear Helena humming along. She looks up to see Helena with her eyes closed, head laid onto her hand that’s propped up by her arm on the back of the couch. 

Helena’s rarely ever this at peace, so Dinah keeps playing until the end of the song. 

When the final note rings out, Helena slowly opens her eyes and gives Dinah a lazy smile. “That was one of my parents’ favorites.”

Unable to handle how Helena’s looking at her, Dinah falls back to teasing, “You mean mafiosos listen to Fleetwood Mac? It wasn’t Sinatra 24/7 in the Bertinelli mansion?” 

She easily catches the throw pillow Helena tosses at her head even with the guitar balanced on her lap and drops it to the floor.

“Do you play an instrument?” Dinah asks as her fingers mindlessly pluck at the strings.

Helena shrugs, reaching for her bottle of beer. “I was a rich kid, so I had a few piano lessons. Forgot it all though.”

They easily fall into the back and forth questions game they seem to have been playing lately. “Why don’t you ever play on stage?”

It’s Dinah’s turn to shrug. She moves the capo and starts picking the beginning of another song. There’s a lot of reasons for that. The persona she has on stage was carefully crafted -- a way to be involved in music without involving herself -- her heart. The music she sings up on stage never mattered to her. It just had to sound good. The stuff she plays on the guitar was her mom’s favorite.

It was personal. 

She settles on the partial truth, “This was my mom’s guitar. I guess I just don’t want to take it out.”

Helena reaches into her pocket, where Dinah knows she keeps her toy car. “I get it.”

Dinah gets through two more songs as Helena just quietly listens. It’s been years since she’s held this guitar, but something about tonight makes her wanna play until her fingers bleed.

“Have you written anything original?” Helena asks softly. Like she knows this is personal for Dinah.

Dinah can’t remember a moment when there wasn’t music in her life. Her earliest memory is her mom softly singing her to sleep. Ever since her mom taught her how to play the guitar, she’s started writing her own songs. 

But she’s never sung them to anyone. Not since her mom.

But for some reason, she finds herself nodding.

“Play me something?” Helena asks so earnestly that Dinah couldn’t refuse even if she had wanted to.

//

It’s kinda crazy how quickly time passed since her life was changed completely but one Cassandra Cain. They had all joined up to protect this kid during the late summer when the sun was still out in Gotham. Then winter came and went and now it’s April.

It’s some day during the second week of April, a Thursday or something, when Helena shows up on her bike and asks if she’s free for the day.

Even if she wasn’t, she would have moved her plans if it meant spending time with Helena. She does give her a funny look when Helena asks her to wear a blind fold after they arrive at some building. “Trust me?”

And that’s how Dinah finds herself in the middle of a room with an intricate sound system on one side of the glass and various instruments on the other side once she removes her blindfold.

It’s a recording studio.

“Hi, can you give us a minute?” Helena asks the two women who are seated in front of the sound system. They smile politely at Dinah as they leave the room.

“Helena, what is all this?” Dinah asks, awe evident in her voice.

“It’s your birthday right?” 

Right. April 10th. In all honesty, Dinah had forgotten about it. She’s never really celebrated it after her mom passed.

“I know you wanted to be a famous singer when you were little. And you have all of those original songs. I thought maybe you could record a few of them. Professionally or whatever,” Helena tells her, sincerity evident in her eyes. She’s getting better at eye contact lately, even if her hands still fidget. 

Dinah doesn’t know if she wants to hug her or kiss her. (Both, she knows. Both.) Instead, she opts for the former, cutting off Helena saying something like, “You definitely don’t have to release it. It would just be nice to have.” Helena lets out a surprised grunt from how hard Dinah squeezes her, but her arms slide over her shoulders easily in return.

“Wait, I have one more thing,” she says, breaking from the hug and disappearing through the door connecting the sound room to the recording section.

Her phone then buzzes with three text messages. Cass wishes her a simple happy birthday with an exclamation point. Renee sends her a hbd with the glasses clanking emoji. Harley sends her a bunch of party supply emojis followed by a crude “get laid tonight, birdy!!!!! use protection!!!!”

When she finishes sending the middle finger emoji to Harley, Helena returns with a guitar case in hand. She sets it on a table in the room.“Here, open it.”

Dinah pops the case to see a beautiful, brand new Gibson. It even has an outline of a bird on it -- a canary.

It’s perfect.

“You said you didn’t want to take your mom’s guitar out. But you play so pretty. And I think the world deserves to hear it too,” Helena explains, rubbing the back of her neck with her hands.

 _Fuck it_ , Dinah thinks. She takes Helena’s hand from her neck and replaces it with her own hands. Helena only looks confused for a slight second before she leans down to meet Dinah in a kiss. 

It’s tender and sweet and makes her heart beat loudly in her chest. Probably the best kiss of Dinah’s life if she’s being honest.

Dinah breaks it to ask if that was okay, but she doesn’t get the chance when Helena’s hands come up to hold her hips and pull her back into a second kiss. They don’t get far with how much they’re smiling against each other, so they don’t mind so much when the ladies shyly re-enter the room and make themselves known.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I think we should get started soon. You are paying by the hour, Miss Bertinelli,” one of the ladies says sheepishly.

“Right,” Helena agrees, giving that characteristic sharp nod of her head and releases her hold on Dinah.

“Well, let’s get started then!” Dinah claps her hands together. She leans up to give Helena one more kiss on the cheek, then she grabs her new guitar and heads into the studio.

//

Dating Helena comes easier than Dinah would have thought. Nothing drastic changes between them. They keep it professional enough that Renee stops teasing them by the second week.

Helena’s always been a sweet person, but she’s an even sweeter girlfriend; and Dinah’s never been happier.

Dinah does discover though that she can’t keep her hands off Helena. Not even in a dirty way, but holding her hand or idly tracing random shapes into her palm when they watch a movie at one of their places. And Helena seems to love it in return. 

When Dinah reaches for her hand, it only takes a second before their fingers are intertwined. She’s always pressed into Dinah’s side whenever she can, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Dinah even sees the big, goofy smile on her face whenever they’re walking around on dates, and Dinah holds onto her arm.

This isn’t to say it had come naturally. The first time Dinah tried to hold her hand when they were headed out to breakfast, they didn’t even make it through the door as Helena instinctively grabbed her wrist hard. Realizing what she did, she quickly let go and apologized profusely, despite Dinah telling her it was okay. Her wrist was only a little red. Helena’s eyes were heavy with guilt, even as she mumbled more apologizes into Dinah’s skin as she tried to kiss the redness away.

Dinah had to pull her hand away from her. Pulling Helena down so that their foreheads were touching, she mumbled her reassurances and gave her kisses until she felt the tension leave Helena’s body.

“I’m okay,” she tells her once more. “Let’s talk about it later, but right now I’m hungry.”

Helena had let it go, but it was obvious she was bothered all day. Still, she doesn’t say anything until they’re cuddling on her sofa that night with their stomachs full of chinese take out and some random show playing in the background. Helena had taken her hand and pressed a kiss to the wrist she had grabbed that morning.

“I’m just not used to people touching me,” she explained softly into Dinahs’s skin. “But I don’t hate it. I’m just still getting used to it. Be patient with me?”

Dinah had turned around to face her. “Of course, baby. Of course.”

She sealed her promise with a kiss.

//

It isn’t always easy between them. The thing with dating a person born to a rich, mafia family who then spent 15 years in isolated Sicily is that communication can be hard at times. Especially when Dinah herself can be difficult about that.

“You’re mad at me,” Helena says it as a statement. 

“Yep.”

“Can you tell me why?” 

Dinah just gives her a look, displeasure clearly written in it.

Helena takes a deep breath, frustrated. Dinah thinks she’s going to break something when she makes a fist. But instead, Helena unclenches and clenches her fists a few more times, then takes another deep breath. “I’m not so good at reading body languages. I may pick up on some things but I’m not going to be able to read your mind,” she confides. “Sometimes -- most of the time, I need it spelled out for me.”

Dinah takes a moment to recompose herself. It’s not that she likes to play games. She’s a straightforward person. But sometimes she feels things, and she can’t find the voice to make them known. 

She beckons Helena over, who comes over easily. She takes Helena’s hands into hers. “I’m mad at you, yes. But I’m also mad at everything. And I’m not too sure why yet.” She takes a deep breath and forces the next words out. “I hate that I don’t know why. But once I figure it out, I’ll let you know, all right?”

The uneasiness in Helena’s eyes dissipates a little. She nods in understanding. If anyone understands rage, it’s her. “You’ll come talk to me when you’re ready? And we’ll fix it?” Helena asks earnestly.

Dinah pulls her into a tight hug, nodding her agreement against Helena’s shoulder. It’s not easy and they’re not perfect. But god, sometimes Dinah feels like it could be something close.

//

“Do you feel loved?” Helena whispers into her neck one night. They’re lying in the dark with Helena’s sheets draped over their naked forms. Dinah runs her fingers through Helena’s hair from where her head laid on her chest. 

It takes her a moment to even think of a response, because she’s so caught off guard by the question. “Of course,” she says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. She pulls Helena up to look into her eyes, cupping her face between her palms. She brushes the hair out of Helena’s eyes gently. 

It’s rare to see Helena like this. 

Vulnerable. 

Insecure. 

Dinah decides she hates it. 

“I’ve never felt more loved,” she voices, and it’s the easiest thing she’s ever said. “Ever since Cass. Renee. Even Harley.”

She takes Helena’s head into her hands, holding her so close they both have to close their eyes. “And you. Especially you. You make me feel so loved.”

She can feel the insecurity leave Helena’s body. She presses a kiss to Helena’s lips, and Helena deepens it. She’s panting when they break apart. “Sometimes, I just have to hear it out loud,” Helena whispers against her lips. Her voice shakes, and Dinah can feel tears against her skin. Helena’s.

“I love you.” Dinah presses a kiss to her cheek. “I love you,” she repeats as she kisses the other cheek.

Helena wipes her own tears away and presses a searing kiss to Dinah’s lips. Things quickly turn passionate, and if there’s a little more vigor in Helena’s movements when Dinah pants praises into her ear, well she doesn’t mention it in the morning.

She’s drifting off to sleep, completely exhausted but content, when she feels another kiss pressed to her temple and something like an “I love you too, you know,” whispered against her skin.

//

Dinah’s picking notes, mumbling words to herself, and then jotting them down in a notebook when she feels Helena finally shift besides her. Helena’s usually a light sleeper but last night was a lot for them -- emotionally and physically. 

“Morning,” Helena grumbles; her voice even deeper in the mornings than usual. Her dark short hair is disorderly and covers her face. Dinah watches her fondly as she pushes the dark strands out of her eyes. “Morning, baby.”

Helena stumbles out of bed and looks for a shirt and boxers to wear. She rummages through the drawers as Dinah goes back to writing lyrics. “Hey have you seen my soft t-shirt? The black one?”

Dinah shifts the guitar in a poor attempt to cover the shirt from Helena’s view. Helena just rolls her eyes. “Renee always complained about girlfriends stealing clothes. I just didn’t think my girlfriend would also be a thief.”

“Aww, baby, I’m sorry,” Dinah says completely not sorry, “Do you really want it?” She goes to lift it from the bottom. 

“No, it’s okay. Looks better on you anyways,” Helena says, already slipping another random T-shirt and black boxers on. She walks over to press a kiss to Dinah’s forehead. “Want coffee?”

She’s already leaving the room before Dinah can reply. By the time she comes back with two mugs in her hand, Dinah’s singing a full verse and a chorus.

Helena sets the mug on the nightstand closest to Dinah. She looks at her in awe, “That’s beautiful. You’re amazing, you know that?”

Dinah ducks her head shyly. “Sweet talker.”

Helena settles and takes a seat next to her, reaching for the notebook, “Thought of a title yet?”

“Love languages,” Dinah tells her, putting the guitar down and picking up her mug. “Thanks for the coffee.”

“I know you get cranky without caffeine.”

Dinah rolls her eyes, but still presses a kiss to her cheek. Helena turns her head to give her a kiss in return.

Then, they stay like that for a bit. Helena lounges while Dinah tries out a few different lyrics, writing and rewriting.

Dinah taps her pen against the notebook and looks at Helena sipping her coffee and scrolling on her phone. She’s always been pretty shitty at domesticity. Something about settling made her skin crawl.

But this --

She could get used to this.

//

Most people see Helena Bertinelli as harsh. Ruthless. A cold-blooded killer.

Unloving. Uncaring.

And Dinah would have to call them blind.

**Author's Note:**

> I started reading some of the comics, and I was thinking of how Dinah gains her iconic leather jacket and fingerless gloves look. Started as a "haha what if Helena just showered her with gifts" then it became this. A weird agglomeration of the movie and comics' characterization. I loved Cass' role in the movie, but I wish they kept her speaking disability -- it would have been rad to see sign language on screen. Hope y'all enjoyed! You can find me on tumblr as kaorujin.  
> 
> 
> I hope you all are staying safe during this global crisis! If you're quarantining, stay strong, stay inside, and wash your hands. If you're an essential worker, first of all, /thank you/. I appreciate the risks you all are taking to keep our society functioning. Also stay strong and wash your hands. We'll get through this, folks. We'll get through this.
> 
> P.S.
> 
> Here's a link to the acoustic version of Everywhere Dinah plays: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VH9LAgMjvR0


End file.
